SATURDAY mornings for me in the early 1950s would follow a familiar pattern. Providing my father was working I’d be given pocket money to attend the morning matinee at The Odeon.

I can’t be precise about the amount, although I think it was usually a shilling, enough for admission and a Mars bar. It became something of a ritual. I was, and still am, a creature of habit.

But then my world was turned upside down.

One morning I was early for the pictures and I wandered around the town, stopping at the window of a rather posh general dealer and grocer.

And then I saw it, the light reflecting off the red tin foil, the largest chocolate biscuit I’d ever seen – a Burtons Wagon Wheel. I was smitten and my Mars bar days were over.

Moreover, I wasn’t disappointed it was a supreme biscuit – a lovely crisp base, topped by marshmallow and covered in chocolate. The real clincher however was the extraordinary size.

The current manufacturers admit to a slight reduction in size but not as much as consumers claim. They say this impression is due to the adult memory of the biscuit in a smaller hand.

I’m not convinced.

VJ Connor, Bishop Auckland.